I choose to go down swinging

"Sam!" Sawyer called out but within seconds she was knocked to the ground by one of the three demons that she and Sam were currently tackling. Sawyer turned her head in time to see it happen. Sam’s eyes suddenly snapped open and shone with a brilliant blue light. Sam got to his feet and a pair of charred angel wings sprouted from Sam’s back. Sawyer’s own green eyes widened in utter shock.

The light in Sam’s eyes grew stronger until it was so bright that Sawyer had to close her eyes as the room exploded with light. When she dared to open her eyes the three demons lay dead on the floor, Sawyer looked up at Sam who canted his head at her before he offered her his hand to help her up. “There is no need to be alarmed, Sawyer.” Sawyer hesitated then took his hand and was pulled up onto her feet. “What the hell are you?” She breathed.

Sawyer sat atop the counter top and waited in silence, she didn’t look at Ezekiel he had tried to start a conversation once or twice but now he had given up. She hadn’t spoken since his explanation for what had happened, she was still mulling it over in her own mind, the cogs constantly turning, positively grinding as she tried to keep a lid on her emotions.

As soon as Dean entered the room all hopes of Sawyer being calm were dashed. She looked up at him with a face like thunder and jumped down from the counter, marching straight up to him and resisting the urge to slap him. “Have you lost your fucking mind?” She said in a raised voice. “Sawyer…” Ezekiel said softly and Sawyer raised a hand to silence him. “Not now.” She said focused on Dean. “When exactly did you plan on telling me that there’s an angel riding around in Sam’s body?” She demanded heatedly. 

For a split second, Dean had worried as he saw the bright light practically consume the building that he knew Sam and Sawyer had been in. It had taken him a moment to remember Ezekiel, and then he relaxed a little. One smart comment to Abaddon later and she was gone, and he was hurrying into the building--

Only to be confronted immediately by a very peeved Sawyer. Like he really needed to deal with that right now. Dean ran a hand through his hair, and drew in a deep, deliberate breath, his mind immediately coming up with a clear response. Yeah, she had a good reason to be pissed-- but Sam's life had been on the line. She had to see reason to that, at the very least.

"I wasn't going to," Dean replied-- and, oh, that definitely wasn't going to be winning him any good guy points. "Listen, I couldn't take the risk, alright? Nobody else knows. Sam can't know. He was dying back there, okay? And I had to save him, I couldn't let him-- This was the only way. Zeke's only putting Sammy back together, and then he's gonna be gone, alright? I get that you're mad-- and believe me, I won't blame you. But at the very least, I need you to stow it, and go on pretendin' that nothin's wrong. If Sam ejects Ezekiel-- and I have a strong feelin' that he would-- he dies. So he can't even have a clue."

"Whatever you say, Princess," Bobby grunted, and Dean flipped him off and straightened himself out. He was standing right beside the car when Castiel had returned, and he sheepishly ran his hand through his hair when Castiel noted that he'd washed it. "Well-- figured it wouldn't hurt. Your car oughta be runnin' smoother than before, too. Did an oil change, put air in your tires, all that fun stuff." If he had to be honest, he was pretty proud of his work. And, he'd been very careful and attentive to his work-- any problems Cas might have in the future would have nothing to do with any of the work that Dean had done.

Once Castiel had mentioned having his lap top, Dean relaxed a bit. He would have felt bad just sending the teacher off on some sort of aimless journey for an hour or two. At least he had something to entertain himself with as Dean worked. "I'm sure I can get everything done in less than a few. I won't have any other cars to distract me, no extra weight to worry about. I'd wager under two hours, even." Dean prided himself in being efficient. He got the job done quickly, and he got the job done right one hundred percent of the time. Dean didn't like being anything less than perfect. The workings of a car just came easily to him. It all clicked like he was born with the knowledge. Bobby sometimes would tell him that he was better at the job than his father ever was. That fact had pleased Dean even more.

Castiel had then grabbed his hand, and Dean was surprised by how soft the man's hands were. He was also surprised that it was the first thing that had popped into his mind. God, he had changed. But, in all honesty, the differences between his own hands and Castiel's made it all the more obvious. Dean almost couldn't help but wonder if Castiel had ever used his hands before. He almost hadn't even realized that he had the man's phone number on his hand until Castiel had pulled back. He couldn't believe that he'd gotten distracted by god damn hands-- and this was so, so cheesy.

Still, Dean nodded. "Right, will do," he replied with a mock salute, pulling his cell phone out to quickly punch in the number. If he managed to get something on his hands that could have smudged the number or just covered part of it, Dean would have been fucked-- God forbid he had to actually walk a little ways down the street just to retrieve the man. Once Castiel had left the area and had disappeared into the coffee shop, Dean returned to the garage, popping up the hood of the car, and getting to work on replacing the battery.